Add this to the hundredth reason you no longer want to hang out, but I am not a fan of parades. I would rather do any number of tedious, unpleasant things than attend a parade including stabbing myself in the face with a fork. Andy and I had been married three years before this ever came up. And when our eyes met for the first time after admitting our mutual loathing for parades, I fell in love all over again.
Because horse crap aside, I have so many unanswered questions. Like who are these old men driving by in cars waving benignly? And what is the appeal of a float? Floats kind of lost their edge with the invention of special effects didn't they? And who are these sad nameless people sitting atop said floats, chucking taffy? And where is the magic in that? If I have a hankering I can buy and entire bag of unhandled taffy at the store any day of the week without having to bake on my folding chair in the sun for an hour surrounded by the sweating masses dying slowly of unimaginable boredom.
I know; You love parades. You, and practically every other human being on the planet. I couldn't even find an appropriately sad parade picture for this post. Even Google couldn't fathom what a "lame parade" might look like, which is what I typed into its search engine. "Do you mean Lemon Parade?" "Do you mean Happy Happy Fun Time Parade?" No Google, but thank you for confirming what I already knew: I am missing something. Maybe I'm a robot.
